


This Painfully Strange Shop

by shadow_in_the_shade



Category: Class (TV 2016), Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Crack, Other, Pure Crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadow_in_the_shade/pseuds/shadow_in_the_shade
Summary: The Doctor visits Missy in the vault bearing flat pack Ikea offerings, none of which are the Cabinet she really wants. Missy takes him to town for the way he left the cast of Class at the end of Episode 1. Twissy fic set early Doctor Who Season 10 and just after Class Episode 1. Tagged as Class fic because, even though none of the characters appear here the whole fic is basically the Doctor and Missy discussing them :-)





	This Painfully Strange Shop

**This Painfully Strange Shop**

 

 

“I wouldn't sir, she's been in a bit of a funk today – could be dangerous.”

 

“Honestly Nardole, if you haven't noticed by now, she only has the two moods – your _bit of a funk,_ which, yes, is dangerous; or highly amused slash whimsical, which is frankly - ” he shudders - “No honestly, I'm not sure which is worse. Hold these while I open the door.”

 

He hands Nardole his packages while working the mechanism.

 

“Any idea why the funk this time?”

 

“None at all, sir – except of course, _I_ know full well that you've been off – planet already, which means that she almost certainly does too. I don't even have your Time Lord telepathy doo-dah.”

 

“Alright, one – do not call it a _doo-dah_ again. And two – just because we're earthbound – _again –_ does not mean I stop helping out where my help is needed -”

 

“I think you're defining earthbound in a different way to the norm.”

 

“Shut up, and hand me those packages, Nardole.”

 

“Can I ask -”

 

“No. Goodnight, Nardole.”

 

“ _Someone's_ been having fun without me,” Missy greets him the instant he closes the door gently behind him.

 

“You know, some people say hello.”

 

“Some people are not locked in vaults and _some_ people shouldn't have been sneaking off world when they shouldn't. Have fun on Rhodia, did we?”

 

“I didn't even – how did you know?” he sighs.

 

“Time Lord telepathy doo-dah, dearest.”

 

“You are in this vault for so many reasons.”

 

“ _Tell_ me about it – no wait, please don't. Might get kinky – then again -” she gives him a sly sideways look, the kind that makes him not want to argue the idea of kinky.

 

“So yeah, anyway – presents!” she yells - “What'd you get me, and _don't_ think whatever it is makes up for the adventures without me by the way, and we will be resuming that angle of questioning shortly, but first, gimme!”

 

He hands her over the bags from which she draws several large flat-packed boxes – she waves them like wands -

 

“ _Flat packs?”_

 

“A bed, wardrobe and side table as requested. I thought we could -”

 

“Oh please. Like _you_ can set one of these up to save your life? Let me.”

 

The Doctor tries to help for perhaps five minutes, until he becomes unsure of whether he really is just getting in the way or if Missy is just really enjoying making him feel like he is getting in the way. In the end he just sits back on the floor near her, watching as she lies herself flat and fixes parts of the new bed together as though she is doing a puzzle, humming softly to herself and not even slightly – he cannot help but notice – following any kind of guide.

 

“So,” she says, after several minutes of what he thinks, for Missy, qualify as companionable silence - “You had a nice little trip to a war torn planet, called in on our granddaughter's old school and caused another fantastic bunghole to emerge in the fabric of time and space; how am I doing so far?”

 

“You'd be doing a lot better if you hadn't just called it a bunghole.”

 

“Oh pfft. That's what all the cool kids are calling it these days. Trust me. I have a hunch. Whereupon you left a bunch of kids who you're not actually sure are even friends – but you're pretending you are sure, 'cause that's just who you are as a -”

 

“ _Please_ stop reading my mind.”

 

“Oh but it's so much _fun!_ Especially when you've ballsed it up _this_ badly – so let me see – one dead, one lost a leg and one's sharing a heart with – ooh king of the Shadowkin - you _have_ been having fun.”

 

“They're doing _fine.”_

 

“And you keep telling yourself that, dear. Honestly, you leave more debris behind you than I do? I'm almost impressed.”

 

“I left an adult in charge!”

 

“You left – oooh, no, what am I getting? Stop trying to close your head off, you're ghastly at it – _the last of the Quill?”_ she screeches. “ Ha! Hahahahahaha!”

 

“Missy please. Either laugh properly or stop saying _ha –_ you may as well say actual “LOL.””

 

“Ha,” she says one last time. “Because yes, of course Quill are _the_ most reliable species in the universe, and famously good with children -”

 

“Alright, enough with the sarcasm! I got enough of that from her! Anyway, there _are_ no Quill any more, or Rhodians beyond the one of each I rescued.”

 

“And it doesn't cease to amaze me that you actually look proud of yourself for that fantastic rescue. You realise their species are still doomed, don't you? It's not like they can mate with each other, you know.”

 

“I – don't think the Rhodian prince is that way inclined anyway.”

 

“Oh like _any_ Rhodian would be inclined in the direction of a Quill?”

“I did always think they were the most uptight, arrogant species.”

 

“Yes, because we're in a position to comment. _Anyway,_ that's bestiality, not that you'd know, Mr Sometimes – I – Fancy – The – Humans – _ewww,_ by the way.”

 

“I do _not_ fancy humans. Besides the Rhodian is going out with one.”

 

“Oh fabulous, so everything's banjaxed, but it's okay because the last of his species got a nice safe boyfriend? I bet you bloody _ship_ it! Okay, So...and let me just check I'm getting this straight, because it's _reaaaalllly_ funny – you reckon you don't have two dead species more on your conscience on account of saving one of each? Biology never was your forte.”

 

All of the Doctor's attempts at replies are cut off by Missy's merrily singing _The animals came in two by two_ to herself for the next five minutes solid.

 

“Did you get the cabinet?” she asks suddenly, in a sing – song, dangerously calm and curious voice.

 

“Yes, it's here,” he taps the box.

 

“Not _that_ cabinet,” she says darkly. “Don't play dumb with me, young man. You had the Cabinet of Souls on board the TARDIS, didn't you – I can almost smell it from here.”

 

“It's a -” the Doctor swallows guiltily, trying to remember the words the prince used - “It's a fairytale, something the Rhodians tell their children to make death less scary – it's not a weapon -”

 

“Oh and you believe that, do you?”

 

Here he is forced to look away from her shame-facedly.

 

“Well good, because I'd hate to think you were foiled by the not-so cunning ruse of a seventeen year old boy. Do you know how many missions I mounted to Rhodia in my day to try and steal that cabinet? Even just one teensy weensy soul?”

 

She pouts.

 

“My god, are you _sulking?”_

 

“Yes of course I'm sulking!” she snaps - “You got your hands on a Cabinet of Souls and all I got was this shitty flat pack!”

 

“I'll get that on a t-shirt for you.”

 

“I'll wrap it round your neck!”

 

Silence.

 

“It'll be _fine,”_ the Doctor says into the silence, more to himself than anything else. Missy pointedly says nothing.

 

“It will. They'll do the right thing. They're smart kids. They won't use it.”

 

“Mmmmhmmm.”

 

“Missy, I dislike the cut of your jib.”

 

“I dislike the cut of your hair. Let's all be unhappy together!”

 

“Missy!”

 

She whistles innocently. It is the most ominous sound in the world.

 

“Fine,” he says again. “They'll be _fine._ What?”

 

“Not a thing, dear. Not a single thing. Did I speak? I don't speak, nope-nope. Good times!”

 

“Say it!”

 

“Say what? That you let several innocent people get hurt on Earth, failed to stop a double genocide, let children make sacrifices for you and now you've left them with a weapon of mass destruction, I'm guessing some _very_ hefty grudges against the race that killed their people oh and – a rift in time and space that will allow that race to come back to Earth any time their king decides he doesn't _like_ having half a heart any more? No, you do you, sounds like a bang up job I mean what could possibly go wrong?”

 

“I really hate you, you know that?”

 

“Welcome dearest, what are best enemies for, now try out this bed with me or I'll jump up on down on it -”

 

“You know your evil-ranking-threat-to-planet-status could use some work?”

 

“I will jump up and down on it in _shoes.”_

 

“I stand corrected.”

 

__x__

 

**I'm very ill and not currently capable of working on either my long Class or my long Doctor Who WIPs so here's this....whatever it is.....until I feel better!**

 


End file.
